The Breaking-Down of Nico Di Angelo
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: A series of one-shots and drabbles on the child of Hades, starting from when he's the little boy who played with Mythomagic cards, and going all the way up to the fourteen-year-old he is today. Read on about the adventures, misadventures and toughening up - and breaking down - of Nico Di Angelo. Rated T for possibilities of dark stuff, but nothing adult and no slash.
1. The Consequences of a Sacrifice

Chapter 1: The Consequences of a Sacrifice

**So, this is only my second Percy Jackson fanfiction, but I don't care, I'm posting it anyway, because that's the way I roll! xD I'm posting this mostly because I realized I needed something to write on when I was in a Percy Jackson sort of mood, so I posted this. What do you think? I haven't finished HOH yet, know Nico had a thing for Percy, but there's not going to be any romance between them. I'll write one-shots for HOH as they come. **

* * *

The minute he heard they'd come back from the quest, he'd run. He'd run for them, and when he saw three where five should have sat, his smile faltered. "Hey!" Nico said brightly, hoping to diffuse the tension he had so obviously interrupted. "Where's my sister?"

Chiron gave Percy a look, as if privately thinking that the son of the sea god deserved this, whatever "this" was.

Then Percy rose from his seat and beckoned Nico forward, his green eyes sadder than when Nico had last seen them, almost like he'd witnessed the misery of a thousand nations. "Hey, Nico," he said, in a would-be casual, calm voice, but Nico wasn't tricked; this was how every person in his life had looked when they had bad news to tell him. "Let's take a walk, okay? We need to talk."

He led Nico around the camp for a few minutes, and the story started: how Bianca had sacrificed herself, how there was nothing they could do, how she wouldn't listen to them and insisted she should do it herself, because it was her fault the monster chased them in the first place.

Nico got the feeling that Percy was only talking to make him feel better, but finally, he pulled a little god figurine out of his pocket and handed it to him. "She wanted you to have this," Percy added in a hopeful note, as if he thought a stupid, mini figurine of the god of the Underworld could ever bring his sister back. It sat sternly in Nico's palm, radiating a kind of power, a kind of demand for respect, but for the first time ever, Nico didn't care enough to give it respect. He was numb, inside and out, but all he knew was that the hated thing palm and the boy standing in front of him had killed his sister.

Nico glanced down into the snow, feeling as cold and numb as it did right now. "You said you would keep her safe."

Percy gave a sharp intake of breath, as if surprised that Nico remembered, or deeply hurt that the younger boy would pull that card on him. "Nico," he began in a calming, placating voice, but Nico didn't want to hear calm. He didn't want to hear placating.

He wanted to hear screaming. He wanted vengeance.

"I tried," Percy was still talking and that wasn't okay. "But Bianca gave herself up for the rest of us. I told her not to, but she—

"YOU PROMISED!" Nico yelled, and it was then that he really lost control of the situation. "I shouldn't have trusted you! My nightmares were right!"

"What nightmares?" For the first time, Percy didn't seem wholly concerned with telling Nico more bad news. Instead, he seemed genuinely concerned for Nico himself, and there was no quicker way to piss Nico Di Angelo off than to worry about him when you weren't his big sister.

Nico threw the figurine to the ground, yelling, "I HATE YOU!"

He wasn't really sure who he was speaking to anymore; Percy Jackson, the son of the Sea God, for failing to save his sister when he said he would; the god figurine for causing his sister to pick it up; his sister, for deserting him the way she had, when she'd known he'd need her; or maybe, himself, because, if it weren't for him, Bianca would never have joined the Hunt and picked up that figurine and died anyway.


	2. Silence

Chapter 2: Silence

**So, this is set right after Nico fled Camp Half-Blood the first time, after Bianca died. But like, not exactly immediately after, seeing as I can never remember when Nico picked up that awesome sword of his, and it's mentioned here. He's going through his 'I hate Percy' stage, sort of, but he's...I don't know. IDK. **

**Anyway, he has his sword, he hates Percy, but he's not quite ready to admit that he'd basically watch Percy die and not bat an eye. And again, my head canon was that Nico had a thing for Annabeth, so, no, in this story, he doesn't have a crush on Percy. I'm sorry. It's too big of a bomb to drop for me to accept as canon, now. **

* * *

Nico supposed he liked silence.

It was better than constantly having people talk in your ear, anyway, he decided.

In fact, since he'd fled Camp Half-Blood, silence seemed infinitely preferable to anybody who was going to talk. The people who talked never really talked directly to him – they whispered and pointed and spoke behind their hands about that dark-haired freak, the kid in black who carried a sword with a blade as cold as ice.

They didn't call him 'Nico'. They called him 'the son of Hades' as if it was a degrading title, as if they expected him to be insulted.

From that moment on, he decided nobody could make Nico Di Angelo ashamed of his parentage, no matter who they were.

And the people who didn't try to make him ashamed were even worse.

The people who spoke directly to him, like Percy Jackson, or Annabeth Chase…they were only doing it because they felt sorry for him, and to fill his ears with lies and empty promises, ones they had no intention of keeping.

Like that they would protect his sister.

His hand slipped from the hilt of his Stygian sword and it clattered to the ground. He picked it up and inspected it for damage, but his mind was far from his sword; in fact, it was edging closer and closer to Percy.

He couldn't help thinking of how the older boy had promised he would protect his sister.

Despite having only known him for a week or so, Nico had liked Percy. He had reminded him of an older brother, one Nico had always wanted. And now, he was the only other demigod who didn't cringe at the sight of him, although, he reminded himself bitterly, that was because he felt pity rather than fear, which somehow made the son of the sea god seem like an even more dangerous enemy than any Nico had made so far.

As his thoughts neared Percy Jackson's broken promise, an angry voice echoed in his head.

_You could make sure he never, ever breaks another promise again._

What do you mean? Nico anxiously prodded at his own thoughts, trying to figure out what that little voice meant.

_You know what I mean._

As soon as the thought entered his head, Nico shivered suddenly, standing up and dusted himself off, picking up his sword.

On second thought, he decided, he didn't like silence quite _that _much.


	3. Childhood

Chapter 3: Childhood

Summary: Nico Di Angelo is not a child.

**Um, well. Yeah. This idea just sort of...happened. I remembered him burning his Mythomagic cards in the Battle of the Labyrinth, and I decided to do a drabble on that, based off the prompt 'burn'. Thank you guys for your reviews! I know this story isn't that great, because I'm not that great at writing Percy Jackson and you really don't know about this dude. He's...well...you just don't know him very well, know what I mean?**

**R & R if you want, if you don't, thanks just for reading. xD **

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Nico stood over the blazing fire, his sword clutched loosely in his hand. A piece of dark hair fell into his eyes as he picked up another trading card and tossed it into the fire. It brought him a strange sort of pleasure, but also a kind of sadness to watch his Mythomagic cards burn.

But they were one of the things that tied him to his childhood, and as far as he was concerned, he didn't have a childhood anymore.

Nico should not be a child anymore, not when his sister was dead. But the only way he knew to destroy his childhood was to burn the last thing he had from it, the stupid little trading cards he would never need again.

He pulled his sword closer to him, clutching it almost as if it were a teddy bear. He held his sword close, and pulled his aviator jacket tight around him.

His aviator jacket was his security blanket, and his sword was his stuffed animal. These items alone would keep the child of Hades safer than either a silly stuffed bear or a blanket.

Nico stood alone over the crackling, blazing fire, and threw another card in to satisfy the hungry flames, and they licked the card happily, until they would get their next share.

Nico Di Angelo stood alone, watching his childhood burn.


	4. Thoughtless

Chapter 4: Thoughtless

**Well, first things first: I'm using this from a borrowed computer! I'll be able to post this way again, so :D **

**Also, this is a poem. Sorry. It's from Nico's POV. AAAANGST **

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You think that I'm no more than what you see,

Well, I think that you don't know me.

You think I'm a freak, who hangs around the dead,

I think you should try to fill that empty head.

* * *

You think I'm weird and you think that I'm scary,

What, just because nobody ever loved me?

You think I deserve to be alone,

I say I just never had a proper home.

* * *

You say I'm nothing and that I can't do anything right,

I say it's just bad luck, and that I'll never be fully alright.

You say I'm nobody and you think you're totally flawless,

I just say I'll be somebody and that you're totally thoughtless.


	5. Special Kid

Chapter 5: "Special Kid"

Summary: Somewhere along the way, Nico Di Angelo became the "special kid". And he's tired of it.

**A/N: There should be a Greek god of angst. What do you think? :D **

* * *

They look at me and they whisper. They think they're being quiet, but everybody can hear when they talk behind their hands about that bizarre boy, Nico Di Angelo, that freak who's the god of death's son.

They think they know me, but they don't. And I'd rather they call me a freak and tell it like it is rather than try and sugarcoat everything, which is what some of the adults do, what Percy Jackson does and what Annabeth Chase does.

They all call me a "special kid", like I'm secretly mentally unstable, that one crazy kid mumbling to himself in the corner that no one's ever allowed to talk about or talk to.

Not that they ever talked to me anyways.

They all say I'm "special" and "different" and for once, I want them to admit I'm not stupid, or crazy. I know exactly what they mean when they tell me I'm "unique". They're basically calling me weird, nice and polite to my face, holding a great big neon sign above their heads, announcing they're just more people who don't want me.

It shouldn't be surprising, I guess. When has anybody ever wanted me?

But sometimes, I get tired of being "special". I get tired of having to glare at all the adults who think they're helping me when they're not. I get tired of hearing Percy insist that he's my friend when he knows, good and damn well, that he doesn't know a single thing about me. He knows we're not friends. He knows I don't have friends. He knows that. He knows I'm a "special kid" too.

But I tried. I tried to be just like everybody else. Something just went wrong along the way and now, here I am, the freak. The "special kid". Somewhere along the way, I became the "special Kid". They all know it's not uniqueness they're pointing at me and talking about me for, but nobody will own up to it and try to get to know me before judging me…so I guess it'll always be this way.


	6. Branches

Chapter 6: Branches

Summary: (Slight AU of Percy Jackson) (Set after Heroes of Olympus series) Nico Di Angelo puts up Christmas decorations. Something is sure to go wrong, isn't it?

**Um, I can't remember if Sally married Paul or not, but this is a slight AU where she isn't interested in anybody. And she's unmarried. Also, again, Nico is not hot for Percy. Second part might come. Nano Wrimo is giving me stress hair. Please enjoy. Reviews are appreciated, not demanded.**

* * *

It might sound silly, but Nico Di Angelo had not intended, when he woke up that morning, to spend the day tying bows.

However, living with Sally Jackson and her son, Percy, had it ups and its downs. Zeus knew it had its downs.

Mrs. Jackson had invited Nico to live with them shortly after Gaea was defeated. Though Nico had hesitated to accept, Percy had cajoled him into giving the arrangement a chance, at least.

Though the teenager still freaked out every morning when he woke up in a bed that was not his own, with covers that were not his own and clothes that were most definitely not his own – too neat and not enough dirt stains, for a start – he was actually beginning to not mind being here so much.

Mrs. Jackson couldn't have been nicer, although Nico felt sure her pitying looks meant more than she would ever let on; Percy was treating him like – and Nico would go through Tartarus again than admit this to him – he was treating him like a brother, the brother he'd never had.

He was beginning to feel, just a little bit, like he belonged somewhere.

He thought he heard Christmas music start up, before it was abruptly shut off again, before the singer could even fully get into their rendition of 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer', Mrs. Jackson had said, "Go get Nico, see if he wants to help."

Nico had been prepared for a job like helping set the breakfast table or something perfectly normal that he'd done a dozen times since living with them – but then Percy knocked loudly on his door, excitedly, and it made Nico wonder.

"Come in," he called. The older demigod entered and leaned against the wall.

Nico noticed he was beaming widely – not a good sign, in his opinion.

"Hey, do you want to come help? My mom and I are putting the Christmas stuff up, and Mom thought you might want to know. We'll be starting on the tree, and then we do the village and—well, you know the rest."

Nico blinked. "Huh?"

_Brilliant, Di Angelo, _his inner sarcastic sneered.

Nico struggled to explain himself. "I mean, why Christmas stuff? Why now? And, um…what do you mean, the tree and then the village?"

"You…you don't…" Percy's grin faded. "You've never celebrated Christmas, have you?"

Nico looked away. "The last time I did was when Bianca was alive."

"Oh." Percy sounded awkward and, when Nico chanced a glance at him, he had a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "Well, you know…if…if you don't want to do it, you don't have to—

"It's fine," Nico said defiantly, like he was daring Percy to finish the sentence. "I was just wondering. We've never had a village." He slid off his bed and followed Percy to the door.

Percy led him downstairs where Sally was waiting for them, the beginnings of a firtree in her hands. "We get a fake one," Percy explained, at Nico's confused look. "Quicker, and easier."

"Oh. Right." Nico nodded, pretending he knew the difference between real and fake trees.

Sally smiled warmly, handing Nico a large, flat branch. "Spruce that up, will you, it looks dead." She turned away and began hooking other branches onto the bottom.

"Uh…" Nico hesitated to point out that he had no idea how to "spruce" something up. He would've liked to inform her that he had never once spruced anything up in his whole life and that he had gone through a long period of Christmas hate that still hadn't entirely faded away, but he decided now was a fine time to keep his mouth shut.

Percy must've seen his confusion, because he plucked the branch from his hands and began picking at the limbs, making them stand straight up, expectant and cheery. He handed Nico another branch. Nico hastened to mimic the older demigod.

"That looks really good," Percy said approvingly, but he cut himself off at Nico's look.

"Dude, stop trying to make me feel better. It looks horrible." Nico hooked it onto the tree. "There. Maybe your mom's, or yours, will hide it."

"It looks beautiful," Sally commented, and, at first, Nico thought she was remarking on it an absentminded and/or sarcastic sort of way, but, unlike her son, she wasn't trying to make him feel better – she was smiling and she seemed to radiate sincerity.

It was this that made the younger teen feel uncomfortable. "Not really," he mumbled, picking up another branch and absently prying the limbs apart, before glancing at the branch again. Maybe, he decided, it didn't look quite that bad, after all.


	7. In The Dark

Chapter 7: In The Dark

Summary: He thinks it's childish and he intends to never let anybody know about it.

**AAAUGH MY NEXT ONE-SHOT FOR THIS STORY WAS MEANT TO BE FLUFFY FEELS BETWEEN NICO AND PERCY. But not like, romantic Nico and Percy. More like...Percy being protective and brotherly or something :3 Percy being protective of Nico is my favorite :D **

* * *

Why was Nico so reluctant to tell anybody about it?

Because it was embarrassing, for a start. To think…a child of Hades…it was so stupid, so silly and it made him feel like such an idiot.

It made him feel weak, and if there was one thing Nico hated more in the world than people who insulted him or looked down on him just because of who his father was, it was feeling weak.

It was stupid, it was silly, it was childish…but he couldn't help it.

He hated the dark.

He didn't like admitting it; nobody knew about it; he planned to keep it that way.

But he just couldn't explain it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a voice whispering that darkness couldn't hurt him; it wasn't alive, it didn't breathe or feel or talk.

It wasn't interested in hurting him in any way, Nico knew that. But he also knew things could hide in the darkness, things that _were_ interested in hurting him.

It made him feel stupid and silly and childish for having such a fear, but he couldn't help it: he was terrified of the dark.

He thought that, being who he was and all; he ought to have more sensible fears. He did have other ones, too: he hated small, enclosed spaces. They drove him up the wall for some reason.

He was scared of the idea that he wouldn't ever have any friends or anybody who accepted him just the way he was. He was scared he was always going to be left hovering, on the outside, on the very fringes of people's thoughts, not important enough for anybody to remember.

He didn't want to live like that. He didn't want to hover in shadows any longer, he didn't want to be too afraid of friendship and trust and acceptance for his fear to get in the way of his desire.

He didn't want to be left on the outside any longer. He didn't want to be left in the dark.


End file.
